


Family means nobody gets left behind

by silvermoongirl10



Series: Clone Wars Senior Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi AU [13]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 212th Attack Battalion Shenanigans (Star Wars), 501st Legion Shenanigans (Star Wars), Clones being supportive brothers, Cody loves Obi-wan, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Family, Gen, Ghost Company have adopted Obi-Wan, M/M, Mentioned 501st Legion (Star Wars), Needle's fear of needles, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Protective Clone Troopers (Star Wars), Qui-Gon Jinn is a Good Jedi Master, Some humour, The 212th Attack Battalion Loves Obi-Wan Kenobi, The 212th Attack Battalion is chaotic, The 212th were not allowing their Jedi Padawan to be adopted by anyone other than themselves, The 501st Legion is also just as chaotic as their brothers in the 212th, The 501st attempted to adopt Obi-Wan, medic training
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29737242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvermoongirl10/pseuds/silvermoongirl10
Summary: Each chapter will be a short one-shot of extra snippets that I thought of set in this series AU, that may not have fit in the main fics. My OC clone troopers will also feature heavily in these snippets. Chapters will be posted out of order, as I will write them as I think of them. Will contain some humour (or my attempt of humour) and some angst with hurt/comfort.Featuring protective Blackeye, the reason behind Terror's fear of Painkiller, Obi-Wan bonding with the 212th and many more moments that leave Cody either smiling or sighing in exasperation.
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody & Ghost Company, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ghost Company & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Clone Wars Senior Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi AU [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153232
Comments: 54
Kudos: 113





	1. Learning katas

**Author's Note:**

> As these chapters will be posted out of order and set within the main series, Obi-Wan's ages will fluctuate between 22 years old and 25 years old.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set within [The only way to get what you want in this world is through hard work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676078). Cody is happy to see Obi-Wan looking more relaxed. Bonus he gets a chance to laugh at his brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions of my OC clone troopers (when I say military cut hair, I mean like Cody's):  
> \- Terror - clean shaven, a scar on his right cheek and buzz cut black hair (like Captain Keeli).  
> Waxer's platoon:  
> \- Meteor – clean shaven and military cut blonde hair.  
> \- Blackeye – short scruff beard and military cut black hair. He also has a black circle painted around the right eye on his helmet.  
> \- Flycatcher – clean shaven and slightly shaggy, short dark brown almost black hair.
> 
> The medics:  
> \- Patch – shortish black hair pulled back into a nerf tail (about the same length as a Padawan nerf tail) and clean shaven.  
> \- Painkiller – military cut black hair, clean shaven and with a small tattoo on the top right side of his forehead of the medic symbol.  
> \- Needle – short military cut red hair and clean shaven.

Cody smiled softly as he watched Obi-Wan walk through the kata he was showing the men. Obi-Wan was finally looking relaxed and comfortable in his own skin. The dark circles were beginning to fade from beneath his eyes and the nightmares were beginning to lessen. He was sat on the raised seating in the Temple’s smaller training salle as Waxer’s platoon all tried to copy their Jedi Commander. Flycatcher and Longshot were doing the best out of the group, their movements were steadier, if still a little shaky. Boil, Waxer, Gearshift and Trapper were visibly struggling, their feet slipping out of position. While Wooley, Meteor and Blackeye were pinwheeling their arms in an attempt to keep themselves standing.

He was chuckling to himself at the sight of his brothers, Obi-Wan looked up and shook his head at him. He then brought an end to the session, noticing the sweat beading on the men’s foreheads and their heavy breathing. Flycatcher and Longshot seemed disappointed the session was over, but their voices carried across the room and Cody heard them plan to continue once they got back to the barracks. Wooley, Meteor and Blackeye all shuffled out of the room with stiff limbs, while the others smiled and waved at Obi-Wan on their way out.

Once he was alone with Obi-Wan in the room, he stood up and walked across the wooden floor towards his cyare. “You shouldn’t laugh at them,” chided Obi-Wan lightly with another shake of his head.

Cody wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s middle and smiled. “They’re my brothers. I’m allowed to laugh.”

Obi-Wan shook his head as he chucked and then came to rest his head against Cody’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around Cody’s waist. “I’d like to see you try the katas.”

“Just not in front of my brothers,” he responded with a smile. Obi-Wan chuckled again, a sound that lightened his heart. For a short while he had wondered if he would ever hear his cyare laugh again after the fight with Krell. He then started humming to himself as he slowly rocked Obi-Wan and himself from side to side.

“What’s this then?” asked Obi-Wan softly. His breath ghosting against Cody’s neck, causing him to shiver.

“My own form of kata,” returned Cody just as softly, pressing his nose into his cyare’s copper hair. “One you have to have a partner for.”

“I can see why,” murmured Obi-Wan lightly. Beginning to lean more of his weight against Cody. He had known Obi-Wan had been going through the katas as a way to clear his mind and return himself to full fitness. Cody just hoped that soon, his cyare would not be plagued by guilt from killing Krell and begin to fully recover. Obi-Wan was getting better every day. Cody was just looking forward to the day his cyare smiled and laughed freely once again.

“I think we need to practice this kata form some more,” Cody commented, tightening his arms around his cyare.

Obi-Wan chuckled again. “Do we? Well, far be it for me to stand in your way of progress.”

Rocking them side to side with a little more force, Cody swung Obi-Wan up into his arms. One arm hooked under Obi-Wan’s knees and the other curled around his back. His cyare laughed, wrapping his arms lightly around Cody’s neck. The last time Cody had held Obi-Wan like this was when he had carried an inconsolable Obi-Wan away from his injured Master. The difference was stark. But Cody much preferred a laughing and happy Obi-Wan in his arms than anything else.

He continued to rock them from side to side, Obi-Wan’s legs slightly swaying. Obi-Wan tangled his fingers in Cody’s dark hair and smiled softly. “Is this another kata we need to practice?”

Cody hummed in thought and then pressed a kiss against Obi-Wan’s soft lips. “Practice couldn’t hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info about the OCs:
> 
> \- Flycatcher is my little cinnamon roll who must be protected at all costs (but a cinnamon roll who can and could kill you if the need arises). In terms of friendship groups, he's the innocent one, as things tend to go over his head. The one who sometimes needs stuff explained to him that might be obvious to others. He also loves all types of creatures and if he was allowed, he would be hiding as many small animals in his bunk as he could. Thankfully for Waxer and Cody he has not yet figured out how to sneak animals onto the Negotiator. That does not mean he hasn't tried.  
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> \- Meteor is the dreamer. He plans to one day travel the galaxy after the war and visit as many planets as he can. It's not been mentioned in any of the fics, but my headcanon is, for every planet or moon he lands on, he always picks up the first rock he sees to keep it as a memento. He's also the 'mum friend' of the group. While Waxer may be the one to adopt any child he comes across. Meteor is the one who keeps an eye on his friends/brothers. He also tends to keep Blackeye in line when his brother is about to do something impulsive.  
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> \- Blackeye, as has been stated in fics, is very protective of those he considers family. Aggressively protective. Which very much includes Obi-Wan. During the Umbara campaign, he would drift off to sleep with the images of fighting Krell, not at all happy that the Jedi was picking on Obi-Wan. He also has some impulse control, but that is mainly called Meteor or any other brother that stops him from fighting someone he shouldn't. If he starts hissing at you like a loth-cat, run away, because you've probably upset someone he cares about.  
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> \- Patch is the lead medic and has weekly sessions with Cody where he complains about the most stupid thing one of their brothers has attempted that week. Such as, Flycatcher trying to befriend a bear-like animal that he thought wanted to make friends, but was actually trying to eat him. As Patch healed his scratches, Flycatcher maintained the creature didn't mean it. He has considered sedating himself to just get a break from the craziness of the 212th.  
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> \- Needle and Painkiller are new OC's. Needle ironically had a fear of needles and when he got put into medic training on Kamino he fainted. In training he once tried to administer an injection with his eyes closed and almost took someone's eye out. He eventually worked through his fear and is now the medic everyone wants to give them their injections because he is so gentle. Painkiller is the hardass of the medics. If you try to say you're fine when you are not. Painkiller will make you clean up your own blood if you have left a mess in the Medbay. He once forgot to put his mess tray away and Terror tried to, well terrorise him. No one knows what Painkiller did to avoid punishment, but it is rumoured to be legendary because Painkiller is the only brother Terror is scared of and the only medic Terror will try to avoid treating him.  
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> \- Terror is a very new OC. He got into a fight during training on Kamino, he got pushed over and cut his cheek. He let it scar to make himself look more terrifying. He wants to keep his mess clean and tidy. He hated Krell on Umbara, not only because of what he did to Obi-Wan and tried to do to his brothers. But the Fallen Jedi also had the audacity to expect someone else to clean up his mess tray.


	2. Painkiller vs Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on some of the information I gave about Painkiller at the end of the last chapter.
> 
> Which is more terrifying? Messing with someone in charge of your food? Or someone who is a medic?  
> In other words. Reasons to never anger a medic.

Painkiller sighed with exhaustion. The war had only been going for six months but he was exhausted. Flycatcher had tried coaxing another creature onto the ship and had earned a large scratch on his arm. The young trooper had just smiled dopily up at him, enthusing about how magnificent the unknown creature had been. Luckily for Flycatcher Commander Kenobi was nearby and had saved him, Painkiller didn’t think he would ever forget the sight of the two of them crashing through the undergrowth as they got out of the way of the charging creature. Something that moved far too quickly with claws for Painkiller’s comfort.

He had just come off a long shift in the Medbay, after finishing his lunch in blessed silence, he stood up and left the Medbay. Not realising he had forgotten to take his mess tray to the cleaning station. Something that did not go unnoticed by Terror, the man in charge of the mess.

* * *

At dinner, Painkiller grimaced as he was handed a tray full of unflavoured slop. Something that was only handed out when the mess had run out of rations. But as he sat down, his fellow medics Needle and Patch both had normal, _edible_ rations. He looked down at the white coloured slop and sighed.

Needle looked up at him and frowned at his tray until he smirked. “Looks like you annoyed Terror.”

“What?” he questioned. He hadn’t said a word to Terror in a week. But then he remembered he had forgotten to clear away his mess tray from lunch. “Oh, for Force’s _sake_.”

Patch just shook his head and rolled his eyes while Needle just started to cackle. “Oh, this is brilliant! Painkiller you forgot to clean your mess tray!”

Painkiller pushed his tray away from him in disgust. “I don’t know why he has to be so militant about mess trays.”

“The man just likes his mess clean and tidy, just like you appreciate the Medbay being clean,” shrugged Needle. Patch just continued to ignore them as he basically inhaled his caf.

“A clean Medbay is far more important than a mess! We have to stop infections!” scowled Painkiller.

“You try telling that to Terror,” snorted Needle as he began to eat his dinner. Eating slowly and making appreciative hums, while he stared Painkiller in the eye.

“Your funeral,” muttered Patch as he took a breath, lowering his caf mug slightly.

Painkiller narrowed his eyes and got to his feet as he carried his tray to the cleaning station. He threw a look towards the mess hatch, making direct eye contact with Terror. His brother just stared back his buzzed, black hair looking almost invisible in the harsh lighting and the scar on his cheek pulling tight as he scowled at Painkiller. Sensing he had not yet been forgiven, Painkiller pulled his lips back in a challenging snarl. Well, two could play at that game.

* * *

Two days later, and Painkiller was still getting inedible slop at food times. Commander Kenobi had been looking at his mess trays with concern and had even offered to share his food. Painkiller was touched at the offer but declined, not wanting Terror to start going after the Jedi Commander. Not many brothers would have the guts to do that. But Terror would.

After having to resort to eating some of the slop to just keep himself going, Painkiller had reached his breaking point. So, in the dead of night he entered the Medbay and collected an empty syringe and filled it with water and then attached a needle. He then snuck into Terror’s bunkroom. Brothers like Patch and Terror, who were in charge of their sections got private bunkrooms. Which made enacting his plan so much easier.

Leaning over Terror’s bunk, Painkiller smirked, seeing how peaceful Terror was in his sleep he had no regrets for what he was about to do at all. He reached out and grasped Terror’s shoulder and shook his brother.

Terror’s eyes widened in shock as he jerked awake and with both hands he grasped onto Painkiller’s shirt. He sucked in a breath as his wide eyes looked up to find Painkiller leaning over him. Painkiller raised the hand holding the syringe and for effect pressed the plunger down, causing some water to land on Terror’s hands. The man pined to his bed jerked even harder.

“Now,” stated Painkiller calmly, as if he was not holding down a brother and threatening them. “I will start getting _proper_ food again.” Terror opened his mouth to complain and Painkiller tightened his grip while pressing the plunger again. Terror froze, in well, terror. “Messing with a medic was a _bad_ decision on your part Terror. I expect the situation to be solved. Don’t make me come back to _chat_ again.”

Terror nodded once, jerkily. “Okay,” he hissed in frustration, but his eyes stared at the syringe warily.

Painkiller released his brother and stood up. “Good.” He then turned and began to leave the room, not before looking over his shoulder and smirking. “Sleep well.”

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Painkiller was pleased to discover his tray loaded with food, more than the normal amount of food allocated for each person. He looked up and grinned sharply at Terror, who just stared back at him with a blank face, but his eyes still held a little fear. “Thank you for my breakfast Terror,” he said sweetly.

“No problem,” came the gruff reply. Terror then turned to Commander Kenobi who was next in line and staring at the two of them with wide blue eyes.

Once Painkiller grabbed his morning caf and beside him Kenobi grabbed his tea, the Jedi leaned in close. “What did you do Painkiller?” he asked, mirth shining in his eyes.

“Oh, nothing much,” he shrugged with a smile. “Just some gentle persuasion.”


	3. Blackeye just wants to talk...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A demonstration of why you should not upset someone Blackeye cares about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation to the end of chapter 2 in [Our fate lies within us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29314218/chapters/71990766).

When Blackeye saw the message Cody had sent to everyone regarding the footage of the battle of Geonosis Commander Kenobi had seen. It had made his blood boil. The Jedi had done everything he could to make them all feel comfortable around him and he very clearly cared about all of them. So, the fact that some of his brothers had been watching the footage somewhere that was very easy for Kenobi to see it, made him furious.

The situation was made worse when Blackeye had realised that Kenobi had lost a friend in the arena and had happened to come across the footage just as that bit played. Some of his brothers could be so clueless.

As two days passed since the incident, no one came forward. And at the back of his mind, Blackeye was aware that it may have been due to his tone in his message. But he was beyond caring. Everyone made mistakes, he knew that, but the most important thing he valued was beings acknowledging they made mistakes and apologising for it. So, with no one coming forward, Blackeye waited until the entire battalion had one of their sleep piles. Cody was going to be late, as he was meeting with the two Jedi. So, Blackeye took his chance.

Blackeye stood on one of the bunks, his expression furious, and the room went silent. Most of his brothers looking up at him warily. Waxer just rolled his eyes, which was _rude_. Here was Blackeye, standing up for their Jedi Commander and all Waxer could do was roll his eyes.

“As those responsible for upsetting Commander Kenobi have not come forward, I have decided to address you _all_ ,” he growled. Boil and Longshot grinned up at him, glee shining in their eyes as they took in the scared looks on their gathered brothers. Blackeye shook his head. He knew the entire room of brothers had not watched the footage, so why all of them looked like they were expecting him to punch them all in the face was a mystery to him.

“I want it understood. You do _not_ upset Commander Kenobi again. He may smile at you and say everything is alright. But really, he is just trying to spare your feelings. So, I expect you all to be responsible beings and _not_ watch anything to do with Geonosis again.”

“We just wanted to learn his fighting style,” groused Kickface, “it’s no big deal.”

Flycatcher, his innocent young brother, gasped. “Kickface! You should have known better!”

Kickface turned to Flycatcher and rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I knew his friend died.”

“But you knew his fellow Jedi died there!” protested Flycatcher.

“Oh, leave me alone,” snarled Kickface.

Blackeye jumped off the bunk and stormed across the room towards Kickface. He grabbed his brother by the collar of his blacks and dragged him a few steps before he shoved him up against the wall. Taking satisfaction from the groan of pain emitted by Kickface as his back smacked against the metal wall. “One. Don’t _ever_ speak to Flycatcher like that again. And _two_. Don’t _ever_ cross me again!”

Kickface had the nerve to roll his eyes. “I was just watching footage. That is not a crime!”

“You wanted to learn his fighting style,” mocked Blackeye as he leaned closer to Kickface. “You’re not a Jedi Kickface. You don’t need to know his fighting style unless you’ve suddenly become a Jedi and have a lightsaber of your own.” He then threw Kickface to the floor and growled threateningly at his brother. “You will not do _anything_ like that again will you Kickface? Or do I need to find you for a _private_ chat.” Kickface flinched away from Blackeye, something that made him grin, ensuring his teeth were on show.

“I won’t do anything like it again,” muttered Kickface as he was unable to meet Blackeye’s gaze.

At that moment, the bunkroom door slid open and Cody stepped in. He stopped and assessed the situation. Then he looked over at Blackeye and Kickface on the floor. Waxer turned to the Commander and said, “you going to do anything about that?”

Cody grinned sharply, Kickface curled into himself at the expression on Cody’s face. “No. I won’t.” Cody then met Blackeye’s gaze. “Carry on Trooper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which other canon clones and OC clones would you like to see more of?


	4. Meteor's mementos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The keepsakes Meteor picks up on his travels.

Once Meteor had returned to his bunkroom on the Negotiator, he immediately jogged over to his bunk and the small chest at the foot of his bunk. Opening the chest, burying his hands under his spare blacks, and moving the clothes aside, he smiled as he caught sight of his mementos. They were four rocks all of various sizes, but none of them were bigger than the palm of his hand. One was smooth, two were rough and one looked more like a jagged piece of cliff.

After his first campaign, Meteor had started picking up the first rock he saw on a new planet. Well, if he was in the middle of a firefight, he didn’t pick up a rock. He only did so when it was safe. He wasn’t stupid. He also didn’t want to suffer another ‘be careful and don’t take any stupid risks otherwise I’m going to hit you’ lecture from Blackeye.

He wasn’t sure where his fascination with planets, stars and systems came from. But he wanted to visit as many different places as he could. His habit of picking up rocks was his way of reminding himself it was real; he had visited some of the most interesting places. This may have also been because of where he was raised on Kamino, there were no natural objects to pick up, even if he had been allowed.

With a careful hand, he dug into the pocket on his belt and pulled out a rock that was a sandy colour and was mostly smooth with some rough areas. He carefully placed the new rock at the end of the line of his other rocks. All in order of the planets he had been to on campaigns.

Sarrish, Hisseen, Christophsis, Teth and now Ryloth.

Sarrish had been a disaster and Meteor had wanted to throw away his rock, but then he thought about how it would serve as a good reminder to himself, of the memories he had of his brothers. Who he would remember for the rest of his life.

As he knelt beside his chest and looked down at his most priced possessions. He hoped once the war ended and if he had survived it. That one day he would be able to go out and travel the galaxy, just like General Jinn and Commander Kenobi did.

Knowing that his collection was going to grow, he knew he was going to have to come up with another way to keep his rocks in order of the planets he visited. Maybe Commander Kenobi would have a good idea, he mused to himself.

* * *

Commander Kenobi did indeed have a brilliant idea. Using the Force, Kenobi made small holes through the middle of the rocks. Which allowed Meteor to string them all in a line on a piece of string. As he held up his banner of rocks, he beamed and thanked the Jedi for his help.

When he over heard Boil and Blackeye mocking his string of rocks. Well, hard rocks on a string could be a lethal weapon if you swung it with enough force…


	5. Wanna bet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the first months of the war, Obi-Wan has some fun with the men.

When Qui-Gon entered the Commander office on the Negotiator, Cody just a step behind him. He did not expect to open the door and find his twenty-two-year-old Padawan, lounging back in his desk chair, feet crossed on his desk as he drank clear liquid out of a glass bottle. And no. He did not think the liquid was water.

“Padawan!” he exclaimed in shock. He knew Obi-Wan was a young man, legally an adult, and so allowed to drink. But as far as he was aware of, there was no alcohol on the Negotiator.

“Hello Master,” grinned Obi-Wan, tilting his head slightly to look up at him. He wasn’t drunk, on the way to tipsy perhaps. Hearing a choking cough behind him, Qui-Gon turned to look at Cody who seemed torn between laughing and exasperation. Qui-Gon fully sympathised with him.

“ _Where_ did you find alcohol on a ship that has no such thing?” he asked, arms crossed in front of him.

Obi-Wan grinned up at him blithely, waving the bottle in his hands in the air. “It was a bet.”

Qui-Gon just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

* * *

**Two hours earlier**

When Obi-Wan had heard the men muttering about how possible it was to rig the showers in the communal locker room and not get caught. Well, Obi-Wan was intrigued. He stepped close to the group and heard Trapper say that it would depend on _what_ they wanted to do.

“How about dying the water?” he had asked. The men had all slowly turned to look at him with wide eyes.

“Sir?” choked Longshot.

“I’m not sure why, but in our supplies is green dye. We could put that in the water?” he suggested with a grin.

“There is no way you could do that not get caught!” exclaimed Gearshift.

“Wanna bet?” asked Obi-Wan nonchalantly.

“ _This_ I’ve got to see!” stated Wooley. All of the others nodded agreement, their lack of faith in him was slightly offensive to be honest.

“You’ve got yourself a bet!” nodded Boil, holding his hand out for Obi-Wan to shake.

* * *

“So, let me get this straight,” asked Qui-Gon as he pressed a hand against his forehead. Feeling a headache on the horizon. “You rigged the shower water, so that it mixed with the green dye we were given and then your first victim was the Admiral?” Cody snorted behind him and coughed into his hand to cover up the sound when Qui-Gon turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“It wasn’t like I aimed to prank the Admiral,” stated Obi-Wan with a shrug of his shoulder. “I just bet with the men I could rig the shower and not get caught, with no Force use. I won and got some of Longshot’s moonshine.”

“ _Why?_ ” asked Qui-Gon, he refused to acknowledge the pleading tone in his voice.

“You told me to spend time with the men and get to know them,” stated Obi-Wan. He then straightened up slightly from his slouch and then put on a gruff voice. Obliviously imitating Qui-Gon. “Get to know the men Obi-Wan. It would be good for you and them to spend time together out of hostile situations.”

“I did not mean this,” he sighed in exasperation.

“Should have been more specific then Master,” grinned Obi-Wan cheekily, before taking another sip of his moonshine.

Qui-Gon just shook his head and sighed as he left the office. Cody remained and as the door shut, he heard his Commander laugh. He smiled to himself and thought that yes, Obi-Wan did follow his instructions. He had obviously underestimated his Padawan’s love of mischief and the chaotic tendencies of the 212th. And failed to consider the aftermath of the two mixing together.


	6. Waxer's heartattack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waxer's POV of the scene by the pool in [The only way to get what you want in this world is through hard work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676078).

Waxer sighed in contentment as he leaned back on his hands and just listened to the sounds of the water fountains. The 212th had been given leave, while Kenobi took some time in the Temple to heal after his fight with Krell. Waxer’s hands curled into fists, causing him to dig his nails into the grass and soil of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, at just the mere thought of the Fallen Jedi who had tried to have his brothers killed and almost killed their Jedi Commander. Around him, various members of Ghost Company, including his own platoon, where all sunning themselves in the room. Some, like Meteor and Trapper were lying stretched out on their backs and others were discussing going to explore the room and find as many fountains as they could.

He didn’t know what drew his attention towards the pool, but he was glad for whatever it was. As he turned to look at the massive pool beneath the cliff water fountain. He watched as Kenobi ran across the grass, falling to his knees as he gasped desperate breaths into his lungs. Waxer pulled himself onto his knees and crouched, unsure what he should do. Suddenly, he saw Kenobi start shaking. Knowing something was wrong he started to run across the space that separated him from his Commander. He heard his brothers all start asking questions at him, not noticing Kenobi just yet.

Without warning, Kenobi’s shaking arms suddenly gave out and he was falling towards the water’s surface. Flycatcher and Wooley shouted out a warning, the others shouting in horror as they watched their Commander fall towards the pool. All of them, and Waxer, knowing that if Kenobi fell in, he would not have the strength to swim back to the surface.

Waxer’s heart pounded as he ran as fast as he could towards Kenobi, just praying he got to his Commander fast enough. He reached his arms out and managed to wrap them around Kenobi’s middle, halting his fall. For a second he looked down and sucked in a shaky breath as he noticed how close his Commander was to the surface of the water. Kenobi’s Padawan braid rested on the surface. Horror turning his blood to ice, Waxer pulled himself and Kenobi backwards, ending up with the Jedi sat on his lap. Kenobi turned to look at him, and Waxer’s heart broke seeing the tears streaming down Kenobi’s cheeks. Part of him wanting to know what had upset the other man so much, so he could go and rip it to shreds. Like he wanted to do to Krell the entire time they were on Umbara.

“I’ll go and get Cody!” Boil shouted as he ran out of the Room. Waxer didn’t look at his batchmate, he was too busy seeing grief and guilt reflected in Kenobi’s eyes. Two things that shouldn’t be there.

He raised one of his un-gloved hands and wiped away the tears falling down Kenobi’s cheeks. “It’s alright sir,” he murmured comfortingly. Kenobi just shook his head and buried his face in his hands, his shoulders still shaking. Sensing Kenobi didn’t want anymore comforting words, Waxer remained silent as he rubbed his hands up and down Kenobi’s arms. He listened as Blackeye and Flycatcher started to usher the others away, wanting to give Kenobi privacy.

Hearing running footsteps, Waxer and Kenobi looked towards the entrance to the Room and watched as Cody ran towards them. Waxer noticed the panic in Cody’s wide eyes. Cody skidded to a stop on his knees and carefully pulled Kenobi from Waxer’s lap onto his own. Kenobi was rested sideways on Cody’s lap. So, Waxer sat himself close to the two Commanders and comfortingly rested his shoulder against Kenobi’s back. Tuning out what Cody was saying, just wanting to offer his comfort and support, not eavesdrop.

Once General Windu and Cody had encouraged Kenobi to go and visit General Jinn. Waxer got to his feet. Only himself and Boil left in the area of the Room. Boil leaned his weight against his side comfortingly.

“Between us and Cody. Kenobi will be alright,” he vowed. His voice firm, believing his words would become certain.

“I hope so,” he murmured, more to himself than Boil. His heartrate was only just starting to calm down. Four weeks ago, they had almost lost Jinn to a Sith. Now they had almost lost Kenobi to Krell and then his own guilt. As much as they all cared for Jinn. The 212th, particularly Ghost Company, had all adopted Kenobi as their brother. It would crush them all if they lost Kenobi.

Boil wrapped an arm around his shoulders and started to guide him out of the Room. “Just you wait and see. Kenobi is made of strong stuff, he’ll be alright. And back on the frontlines giving us all heart attacks and grey hair with his death-defying stunts,” commented Boil lightly.

Waxer snorted in amusement. Thankfully he had no hair to turn grey, but as much as he hated seeing the Jedi Commander put himself at risk, mainly to protect them all. Waxer would prefer death-defying stunts to Kenobi wracked with guilt and not eating properly. He just hoped Boil was right and soon enough everything would be back to how it was supposed to be.


	7. Flycatcher and the Loth-cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flycatcher makes a new friend and wants to bring them onto the Negotiator. He just has to manage that first...

Flycatcher cast a wary glance over his shoulder. Seeing that no one was looking in his direction he turned back towards his new friend. He had arrived to Lothal not expecting anything interesting to happen as Jinn and Kenobi were tasked with checking on the Lothal Jedi Temple. However, he had discovered Lothal had very interesting animals and he thought one such animal would make a great pet and companion for the Negotiator. Lifting up the Jedi robe Kenobi had dropped and not picked up, Flycatcher creeped closer to the Loth-cat he had shared one of his meat rations with. The Loth-cat seemed to like the ration and even let Flycatcher stroke it! That alone had clinched Flycatcher’s decision, his new friend would be _great_ to have on the Negotiator.

As he got next to the Loth-cat he lifted the robe above the animal and in the next instance he wrapped the robe around the Loth-cat and got to his feet with a wide grin. He then creeped back towards their camp, the heap of robe in his arms wiggling and growling.

“Shhh,” he hushed his new friend. “It will be alright. I just need to get you back to the Negotiator and then you can have a nice run around.” He jiggled the robe and his friend up and down in his arms, as if he was comforting a nat-born baby. It only made his friend hiss. “I’m sorry!” he cried. “I don’t like upsetting you! But this is the only way I can get you on the ship!” he pleaded his friend to quieten down as he got closer to the camp.

The camp had almost been dismantled and his brothers starting to pack everything away on the gunships. In his arms, a robe covered paw struck out towards his head. Thankfully he was wearing his helmet and so no damage was done. He hushed his friend again, promising more meat rations.

Suddenly, his progress came to a grinding halt. Commanders Kenobi, Cody and Waxer were stood in front of him. Cody and Waxer had their arms crossed over their chests, helmets off so they could direct their most impressive ‘please tell me you didn’t’ glares at him. Kenobi stepped forward and grinned, “ah! Thank you for finding my robe Flycatcher.”

As the Jedi stretched a hand out to take his robe. The bundle of cloth moved and hissed, causing Kenobi to leap backwards, a surprised look on his face. “Flycatcher?”

Waxer sighed and buried his face in his hands. “Not again,” he groaned.

Cody lifted one unimpressed eyebrow at him, causing Flycatcher to shrink into himself. That look was normally reserved for Kenobi when he was doing something reckless. But he wasn’t doing anything reckless! He had made a new friend!

“This makes the tenth time Flycatcher,” drawled Cody. Flycatcher just stood staring at the Commander as he grappled for something to say, while trying not to let the bundle of robe fall out of his arms.

“Am I missing something?” asked Kenobi, as he stared at his robe dubiously.

“You can’t seriously be unaware of Flycatcher’s hobby?” asked Cody in disbelief as he turned to look at the Jedi. Kenobi’s eyes widened in realisation and he then looked at his robe warily.

“I had hoped none of the men shared my Master’s adopting habit,” the Jedi stated.

Internally, Flycatcher was screaming with excitement. If he just found General Jinn, the Jedi might let him keep his new friend!

“Don’t even think about it Flycatcher,” warned Waxer. Flycatcher’s shoulders dropped and he sighed as he looked at Waxer.

Suddenly, the squirming bundle in his arms, hissed loudly and then lurched out of his hold. He jumped, but as he tried to hug the Loth-cat against him, all he hugged was the robe. Part of the robe hung over his arms, as with dismay he watched a small blur streak across the ground away from him. “Gerald!” he called.

The three other men looked around him to see the Loth-cat disappear. Kenobi jumped when he heard Jinn call his name. So, he stepped closer to Flycatcher and gently took his robe from him. “Sorry Flycatcher,” he murmured. Kenobi then pulled on his robe, for a moment staring at the light Loth-cat hairs now covering his robe, then just shook his head and walked towards the General.

Flycatcher warily looked at Cody and Waxer, waiting for the inevitable ‘we’re disappointed in you Trooper’ speech. Instead, Waxer shook his head and sighed. “Get back to helping dismantle camp Flycatcher.” He nodded and walked past his two brothers, listening to their conversation.

“Sometimes I feel like just leaving him on a planet like this,” muttered Cody.

“Don’t even say that,” sighed Waxer. “Flycatcher would actually _volunteer_ for that.”


	8. Thank the Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody's POV of the first time Obi-Wan wakes up in [A true hero isn’t measured by the size of his strength but by the strength of his heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29823432).

After Obi-Wan had been operated on and spent another four days in a bacta tank. The Jedi was finally healed enough to be put into a regular medical bed in a recovery room. So, Cody could finally sit at his cyare’s beside and hold his hand, for the first time since his return to the Jedi Temple. Generals Skywalker and Jinn would often sit in the room with him, all of them silently watching Obi-Wan as he slept off the sedation. Every day he regained more colour, no longer looking deathly pale and his breathing returned to normal. Cody could almost fool himself into thinking his cyare was only asleep. But Obi-Wan never slept still on his back, he was always curling into Cody’s warmth or just lying across his chest, burying his face into the crook of Cody’s neck.

After three days of waiting, Cody felt the call of sleep. Skywalker and Jinn were at a meeting with the Council and with no one to talk to and keep himself awake he felt himself growing more tired. After trying to keep himself awake for so long, just to see his cyare wake up, he felt himself falling into the comforting embrace of sleep. Obi-Wan’s Healer friend, Bant, had told him Obi-Wan had woken for a few seconds before the operation and that had brought a lot of comfort to Cody, he could finally start to believe that his cyare would be alright in time.

He reached out one of his hands and brushed it over Obi-Wan’s face and hair, his heart breaking at the lack of reaction. Obi-Wan was like a tooka, and would lean into any touches, like when Cody would brush his hands through the copper strands of his cyare’s hair. With exhaustion pulling at his limbs, he let himself fall forward to the edge of the medical bed. He rested his head on the soft mattress and slung his left arm over Obi-Wan’s stomach. Letting himself drift into sleep, he hoped and prayed for his cyare’s recovery. Obi-Wan had helped to end the war and Cody was desperate to live a life of peace with his cyare. The thought of having to live the rest of his life alone was heart breaking. Especially as the Jedi Healers had found a solution to the accelerated aging and Cody had no interest in a longer life without Obi-Wan beside him.

* * *

Awareness came to Cody quickly as he felt a hand rest against his head, careful fingers were tracing the scar around his eye and a thumb brushed through his dark hair. He felt his breath hitch, because he knew whose hand was resting against his head. Cody felt his eyes sting with tears of sheer relief, but he kept them closed, not wanting this to be a dream. His shoulders tensed in anticipation as he lifted the hand that rested in front of his face. His hand shook as he lifted it up and pressed it against the slightly cold hand that rested against his face. After a moment, he squeezed the hand pressed under his and the cold fingers twitched as the person tried to squeeze his hand in response. Feeling a sob well up inside him, he managed to hold it back, but his shoulders still shook as he opened his eyes and slowly began to sit up, his left arm pulling backwards towards him.

Cody slowly turned his head and looked at the tired face of his cyare. Obi-Wan was looking up at him with his eyes fully open, but still a little glazed from his pain medication. “Cody,” Obi-Wan whispered faintly, his voice barely audible. But it was the most precious sound Cody had ever heard. Obi-Wan was _alive_.

Knowing his lips were trembling as he held back his sobs, he gently tugged Obi-Wan’s hand that was still against his head, down towards his mouth and pressed a kiss against his cyare’s cold hand. With his free hand, Cody cupped the side of Obi-Wan’s face, his thumb brushing against the Padawan braid that rested down his cyare’s chest, halfway between his shoulder and elbow. Cody leaned closer to rest his forehead against Obi-Wan’s, their noses almost brushing together. “Ob’ika. Cyare. Thank the Force,” he mumbled, his words disjointed as he was lost for words in his sheer relief of seeing Obi-Wan awake and alive. From refusing to blink, not wanting to risk the sight before him being a dream, tears escaped his eyes and slipped down his cheeks, landing onto Obi-Wan’s cheeks and slipping down to the collar of his cyare’s sleep tunic.

As Obi-Wan lifted a shaky left arm and draped it over Cody’s shoulders. Cody felt his shoulders shake in silent sobs, so overwhelmed by the past thirteen days. He felt Obi-Wan use his left arm to try and push Cody down, closer to his chest. But Cody held firm and resisted Obi-Wan’s attempt of pressing them closer together. And instead leaned back, not wanting to risk hurting his cyare. If he was responsible for hurting his cyare, it would break his already bruised heart.

Obi-Wan groaned in protest and Cody used his hand that cupped the side of Obi-Wan’s face, to brush his cyare’s copper hair out of his face. While smiling slightly at his cyare he said, “I don’t want to put pressure on your chest cyar’ika.” He then gently rested Obi-Wan’s hand, still clutched in his, down onto the medical bed and rested a very careful hand on Obi-Wan’s chest lightly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

As he looked down at his cyare, he watched as Obi-Wan fought back the call of sleep. His blue eyes open as they looked up at Cody, wide and confused as he was clearly confused as to why Cody would not get close to him. Seeing Obi-Wan was winding himself up, something he needed to avoid, so as to not breathe too heavily for his wound. So, Cody hushed him soothingly, he brushed a thumb across his cheek and softly explained. “You still need time to heal cyar’ika. Skywalker used the Force to push some life essence into you. You were then in a bacta tank for five days. The Healers then operated on you. They needed to repair your lung and ribs, the bacta was taking too long to heal them and they were worried you would shock out in the tank. After the operation you were put back in the bacta tank for four days. You’ve spent the past three days sleeping off the sedation.”

“When…when did you get back?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice raspy, as he tried to squeeze Cody’s hand. Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered with annoyance as he watched as his fingers only twitched, no strength in his limbs. Cody wanted to comfort Obi-Wan, but he was barely able to hold himself together.

“We got back two days after the fight with Palpatine,” Cody heard his voice shake and he momentarily looked down at their clasped hands. Sniffling, Cody looked up again. “You’ve been unconscious for thirteen days; I’ve been here for eleven.” Just remembering the terrifying moment in the Temple hanger when General Windu said that Obi-Wan was in a bacta tank and had been dying, turning his blood to ice in his veins.

“Was awake…before operation…” Obi-Wan countered, his lips twitching in an attempt to smirk up at Cody.

Cody rolled his eyes, letting out a wet chuckle, thankful for the light moment between them. “Bant told me. It was for seconds cyare. You were still out of it for thirteen days.” He stated, happy that he was able to bring his emotions back under his control. He saw Obi-Wan wanted to protest, banter like they usually did. But he could see the exhaustion lining Obi-Wan’s face and how his eyes began to droop. “Shhhh,” he crooned, leaning close to Obi-Wan’s ear. He brushed his hand through his copper hair, “just rest cyar’ika.”

Obi-Wan blinked heavily, his head drooping slightly, so his chin rested on his chest. “Love you Cod’ika,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

“I love you Ob’ika,” Cody softly responded. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Obi-Wan’s forehead and hummed a faint tune, to help Obi-Wan drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Sitting back, he noticed Obi-Wan’s eyes were closed and let his shoulders slumped as he brought his hands up to cover his face. He let himself cry for a few moments, just letting all of his grief and relief pour out of him. Then he wiped a hand across his face and turned towards the door of the recovery room, as he was about to stand up, the door opened to reveal Jinn and Skywalker. He felt himself smile widely and he stated, “he’s been awake and talking.” The two Generals leaned against each other in relief, their eyes shining with tears. Cody turned back to his cyare and smiled as he rested a hand on Obi-Wan’s forehead. Everything would be alright now.


	9. Obi-Wan's revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan returned from his mission in [Sometimes our strengths lie beneath the surface](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490630) and discovered his Master had been handing out holo pictures of him. He decides its time for a little payback *cough* revenge *cough*.

Obi-Wan watched Qui-Gon hand out more holo pictures of him as a Junior Padawan. Glaring in annoyance at his Master, which did nothing to change the wide grin on his Master’s face, or stop him handing out the holos to any willing man. All of the 212th were keen on getting their hands on some of the holos. Cody even had two stashed away that he had seen. It appeared his Master had made _a lot_ of copies.

With his Master being unrepentant, Obi-Wan knew only swift action would stop his Master in his tracks. He knew appealing to his Master would have no effect. His Master liked to announce how proud he was of his Padawan, and if doing that had the advantage of handing out old holos of Obi-Wan. Well, it always made his Master’s day. And that day had turned into more than a week.

So, with determination simmering in his veins, and Cody wisely stating he was going to stay out of it. Obi-Wan went to the mess to find Terror. Once he had located the head of the mess, the man looked at him in confusion. Which was fair, Obi-Wan had never asked to have a meeting with the man in his small office at the back of the kitchen.

“Can you please give me a small amount of the strongest spice you have?” asked Obi-Wan, trying to contain his grin. Using his Jedi composure to stop himself from swaying on his feet in anticipation.

Terror jerked back in surprise, ending up sitting on the edge of his desk, while looking at Obi-Wan in confusion. “Sir?”

“What is the strongest spice you have in the kitchen?” asked Obi-Wan gently, now really trying not to scare Terror with his unusual request.

“A Mandalorian spice, sir,” replied Terror, his posture relaxing.

“Could I please have a small amount?” smiled Obi-Wan.

Terror looked at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed. He then shook his head, “follow me sir. And I am not asking why.”

“Wise decision Terror. You won’t be implemented in anything then,” agreed Obi-Wan with a bright smile.

Out in the main kitchen, Terror stopped and looked at him with wary eyes, which was quite a feat. Terror was never phased by anything. A part from whatever ‘gentle persuasion’ Painkiller put him through, something Obi-Wan had never found out what actually happened between the two of them. Terror then continued walking through the kitchen towards the spice cabinet, muttering under his breath, “I do not want to know.”

Once Obi-Wan had been given a small handful of the spice, he thanked Terror and walked out into the mess. After grabbing a cup of tea, he sat down on a table and waited. Mid afternoon on a day with not much to do, without fail his Master would come to the mess for a cup of tea and chat with the men. Obi-Wan quite often joined him, so his presence would not be suspicious. Cody came in five minutes after he sat down, and after grabbing his own cup of tea, he sat down beside Obi-Wan. Both of them enjoying their cups of tea.

Cody then raised an eyebrow at him, as he took a sip of his tea. “You are up to something cyare,” he stated.

“Am I?” replied Obi-Wan, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Cody just shook his head and then laced their fingers together, a small thrill sparking through Obi-Wan. With their relationship now ship knowledge, there was no need to keep their signs of affection in private. In response he rested his head on Cody’s shoulder, the pauldrons not actually that uncomfortable.

A few moments later his Master entered the mess, a lot of the men entering after them. Waxer’s platoon ended up sitting on the same table as himself and Cody. After his Master had grabbed a cup of tea, he joined them, sitting opposite Obi-Wan. “Ah, aren’t you two sweet,” his Master stated. Obi-Wan sat up and glared at his Master. “Now Obi-Wan, isn’t it time to be a little more friendly towards your old Master?”

“The time for being friendly will come to pass, when you stop handing out holo pictures of me like you’re selling them on the black market,” he retorted.

“How do you know they aren’t going on the black market?” his Master asked with a wide grin. Obi-Wan groaned under his breath, Cody squeezed his hand comfortingly. “I did lose the bet you know.”

“I cannot believe you bet on Cody and myself,” Obi-Wan sighed. Now considering the real possibility that his Master was handing out his holos as a form of payment for losing the bet. Beside him Cody let out an exasperated groan. While Boil and Longshot snorted in amusement into their cups of caf.

Master Qui-Gon just smiled innocently, which Obi-Wan did not buy _at all_. But when his Master turned to talk to a trooper on the table behind him, Obi-Wan saw his chance. He used the Force to lift up the spice in his hand and float it across the table, while Cody and Waxer’s platoon watched with wide eyes. He then let the spice drop into his Master’s tea and stirred the spices into the tea, leaving no trace of it on the surface of the tea. Then, as if nothing had happened, he took a sip of his own tea. Cody was very visibly biting his lips in an attempt to not laugh. Waxer was staring up at the ceiling of the mess blinking his eyes as he fought a smile. Flycatcher was gaping in shock as he looked between Master Qui-Gon’s cup of tea and Obi-Wan. Boil was smirking in anticipation as he sipped his caf. Longshot and Gearshift were not so subtly activating the recording aspect of their commlinks. Wooley and Trapper were wiggling in their seats as they waited for Master Qui-Gon to take a sip of his tea. While Meteor and Blackeye leaned forward in anticipation, his Master’s aversion to spices was well known on the ship.

Without somehow not realising he had become the sole focus of the men on the table, Master Qui-Gon turned back round on his seat and lifted his cup of tea. Master Qui-Gon’s eyes widened and filled with tears as he took a large sip of his tea. The cup was hastily lowered to the table and then his Master covered his mouth with his hands. Waxer’s platoon all sounded like they were choking as they tried to smother their laughs. Master Qui-Gon looked at the men and then turned his shining eyes to Obi-Wan and then noticed Obi-Wan’s smirk.

“Padawan?” gasped his Master, horror filling his voice.

“Don’t embarrass me again Master,” he warned, a gleeful smirk on his face as he toasted his Master with his own cup of tea.

Master Qui-Gon pushed himself to his feet and not-quite-walked-not-quite-ran out of the mess. All the men turned to watch him leave, those not sat on Obi-Wan’s table looked on in confusion. Once the mess door slid shut, a faint howl could be heard in the mess.

Obi-Wan, Cody and the rest of the men on their table all bent forwards laughing. Meteor’s face was pressed against the table top as he laughed so hard his entire body was shaking. Longshot, Gearshift, Trapper and Wooley had rested their hands on the table in an attempt to hold themselves upright. Boil was clutching his sides, while Waxer’s laughter was silent as tears streamed down his face. Cody was wiping away tears from his face before he just rested his forehead on Obi-Wan’s shoulder muttering “brilliant” under his breath.

Blackeye then turned to Obi-Wan and saluted him with his cup of caf. “Never mess with the Commander men.” The rest of the men all nodded in agreement.

Flycatcher, who had been sat next to his Master, picked up the discarded cup of tea and looked at it with interest. Before anyone could tell him to stop, Flycatcher took a sip of the tea. He then paused, smacked his lips together and then grinned. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. That’s actually really nice.”

The whole table broke out into another fit of laughter. While Obi-Wan promised to get more of the spices and give them to Flycatcher for him to put in his tea. Satisfied his Master had learnt his lesson. Obi-Wan sat back in his seat and grinned to himself as he sipped on his tea, as the story of why Master Qui-Gon basically ran out of the mess was passed around. As the story reached each table, the laughter in the room gained volume, until every man was laughing at their General’s expense. As a Jedi Obi-Wan did not look for revenge. But payback was sweet. He asked Gearshift and Longshot for the recordings, knowing both Anakin and Master Yoda would want copies.

The day had turned out very well in Obi-Wan’s opinion.


	10. Needle's training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set a few months before the Clone Wars start. Needle, at this point known as CT-1455, is told he is going to become a medic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone with a fear of needles, you may not want to read this chapter. As it refers to IV lines and injections.
> 
> For Needle's and Painkiller's CT numbers, I looked at the where the letters of their names came in the alphabet and created their CT numbers from the string of numbers the letters of their names made. So, in this AU verse, batchmate CT numbers don't follow along chronologically. And now I've gotten carried away and created the CT numbers for the other OCs, even ones introduced in this chapter. Sometimes I took the first four digits that came up, for other clones I took the four digits in the middle of their name to prevent clones getting the same number. (I based their CT numbers on the fact Cody's CC number has four digits.)
> 
> Needle's batch (while their numbers do not follow on chronologically, I made sure all of their numbers started with 1):  
> Needle – CT-1455  
> Meteor – CT-1352  
> Blaster – CT-1211  
> Runner – CT-1821  
> Trapper (a canon clone I could not find a CT number for, so I made him one) - CT-1816
> 
> The other OCs:  
> Painkiller – CT-1619  
> Terror – CT-1818  
> Patch – CT-2038  
> Flycatcher – CT-2253 (in my head Flycatcher and Blackeye are batchmates)  
> Blackeye – CT-2121 (I have a funny feeling a canon clone has this CT number, but I'm not sure, so Blackeye has it)  
> Doc – CT-4153

CT-1455 sighed, he had been directed into a small room with some of his brothers, but not his batchmates. He was worried, had he done something wrong? Had the Kaminoans got fed up at looking at his red hair? Was he about to be decommissioned with these other brothers? He sighed again, it seemed he would never see his batchmates again. Just as they were all starting to name themselves. He was the last one in their batch to find a name and probably never would. He should have taken it as a sign. The other four in his batch had all found names, Trapper earned his name after getting trapped in his sleep pod for the fifth time last week. CT-1455 stared morosely at his feet. He just hoped his batchmates would never share his fate.

He jumped when Commander Colt stepped into the room. The five other brothers in the room with him all straightened up, their faces all careful masks. But CT-1455 could tell, like him, they all expected to be decommissioned any minute now.

“Men, after the aptitude test you took two days ago, we have looked at your results,” stated Commander Colt, his arms folded behind his back. CT-1455 sighed, so he had done something wrong, he had failed a test. “And it has been decided that you would all be better medics than regular troopers.”

CT-1455’s ear rang. A medic?! A _medic?!_ He hated anything to do with the Medbay, particularly needles. His chest tightened and the palms of his hands became sweaty as he tried to push his panic away. Commander Colt kept talking but CT-1455 didn’t hear him. His eyesight went spotted and his hearing faded so Commander Colt’s voice was just muffles. Suddenly, he felt his legs buckle and everything went dark.

* * *

Well, CT-1455 was off to a _great_ start in medic training. Within a minute of being informed he was being transferred to medic training he had fainted. CT-1619 had chuckled and said he had never seen Commander Colt look so worried before. Apparently, the Commander had never had a Cadet faint in front of him before. CT-1455 groaned in embarrassment. He was probably going to be the laughing stock of their medic-in-training group. He wouldn’t be surprised if all the other non-medic Cadets soon found out.

Just as he had finished listening to their trainer, an older brother called Doc, give the tour of the Medbay. He turned to the door and found Trapper, Meteor, Blaster and Runner staring at him with wide eyes. “Are you four okay?” he asked, he didn’t want to start treating any one now. He had only been a medic for an hour. Well, an hour and half if you counted the half an hour where he had fainted, been unconscious and checked over by Doc.

“You’re okay!” exclaimed Trapper.

“Well, now I am,” he replied in confusion.

His batchmates rushed towards him and enveloped him in a tight group hug. “We were so worried when we heard you be sent to a meeting room. We thought we would never see you again!” murmured Meteor. CT-1455 nodded to himself, now he understood what was happening.

“I’m not going to be decommissioned. I’m going to be trained to be a medic,” he stated. On the one hand he was relieved that he was not going to be decommissioned. But on the other hand, he was now going to be moved from his bunkroom, no longer training with his batchmates. He was being moved to the medics’ bunkroom.

“We’re so relieved!” said Blaster, his voice thick with unshed tears as he buried himself closer to CT-1455.

“We’re so glad we’ve still got you,” added Runner, his eyes shining with relief.

CT-1455 sighed, “but I won’t be training with you anymore.”

Trapper glared at him and hit him upside the head. “If you think that means you won’t be our batchmate anymore then you are an di'kut! You will _always_ be our batchmate and a member of Foxtrot squad!”

“Yeah! We all knew there was a risk of us all being split up after training anyway. And we all knew if that happened, we would always be batchmates and members of Foxtrot squad first. Doesn’t matter where you go in the galaxy CT-1455. But you will _always_ be our batchmate,” stated Meteor firmly.

CT-1455 smiled and then hugged his batchmates tightly against him. “Thank you for setting me straight.”

“That’s what we are here for,” smiled Runner.

* * *

Medic training wasn’t as bad as CT-1455 feared. He had treated brothers who had gotten injured in training no problem. Blood? Not an issue. A brother being sick? Not an issue. Broken bones? Not an issue.

What _was_ an issue? Needles.

Giving injections? A big problem.

Putting an IV line in? A big problem.

Two months into medic training and his fellow trainee medics had started a tally chart for the number of times he fainted. It was up to _twenty tallies_. He was averaging ten faints a month. At this rate he was going to have a medical bed permanently assigned to him!

He was a joke of a medic. An _absolute_ joke. He really wanted to find the person who looked at his aptitude test and thought, oh that one’s a medic. He wanted to find them and ask them. _What were they thinking?!_

* * *

The time had come to move on from administering injections and inserting IV lines from dummies to real people. And CT-1455 was _shaking_. CT-1619, now known as Painkiller, was being really nice to him and had been trying to help him get over his fear of needles. But all the extra practice had managed was Painkiller getting better at catching him after he had fainted. Painkiller was nice enough to not put those faints on the tally chart. Where thirty little black lines would stare back at CT-1455 and judge him.

Blaster, his batchmate, was lying back on a medical bed. He was the one CT-1455 was expected to give a vaccine to. Painkiller and Doc, had thought treating one of his batchmates would help him. But it made no difference. CT-1455 was shaking so hard his entire body jerked like he was being electrocuted.

As CT-1455 came to stand beside Blaster’s side, Doc stood on the opposite side of the bed giving him an encouraging smile. CT-1455 turned to his batchmate. Blaster turned to him and smiled comfortingly at him, “you’ll be fine vod’ika.” CT-1455 tried to take comfort from Blaster’s words he really did.

So, he took a deep breath and steadied his hands. Doc, nodded approvingly at him. But as CT-1455 lifted the needle, he closed his eyes and just as he thought he was about to inject Blaster’s shoulder, Doc and Blaster shouted at him to stop. CT-1455 flung his eyes open and was horrified to realise the needle was dangerously close to Blaster’s eye. He dropped the needle, “I’m sorry!” he cried, he then turned and ran. He found the common room in the Medbay and hunkered down in the corner, burying his face against his knees and rested his hands and arms over his head. He was doomed now. The Kaminoans would decommission him for sure. Once you were placed in medic training, you were never reassigned back and if he couldn’t pass medic training, then he was worthless.

Footsteps cautiously approached him and he peeked out over his knees and found Painkiller, Doc and Blaster knelt on the floor a couple of feet away from him. “You won’t be decommissioned CT-1455,” stated Doc firmly, leading CT-1455 to realise he had been speaking aloud to himself.

“It’s okay, vod, you didn’t do anything wrong,” added Painkiller, a soft smile on his face.

“But I almost took out Blaster’s eye!” he protested. Medics were supposed to heal people, not inflict injuries.

“I’m fine!” stressed Blaster, as he crawled across the floor and came wrap his arms around CT-1455. “And you will be to. I just know a fantastic medic is hidden inside you. Just you wait.”

Doc crept closer. “Just give it time. I will help you and so will Painkiller.”

“And Foxtrot squad will be ready to throw you a party once you pass medic training!” enthused Blaster with a wide grin. CT-1455 felt himself relax and leaned his head on Blaster’s shoulder, trusting his brothers implicitly.

* * *

It took time. But soon CT-1455's fear of needles became controlled. Doc would stand behind him, a steadying hand on his as they inserted injections together into the shoulders of dummies. Painkiller would have him watch him and then help him insert IV lines into dummies. Slowly, over the course of a month, CT-1455 was not even aware as Painkiller and Doc took steps back and he was the one who was taking the lead.

Eventually Blaster came back for his vaccine. He had stated to Doc that CT-1455 had to be the one to give it to him. No one else.

After taking a deep breath, CT-1455 slowly gave Blaster his vaccine. As he drew back the needle and disposed of it. Blaster turned to him, “it’ll be okay vod’ika.”

“I know,” smiled CT-1455. “I’ve already done it.”

“What?” exclaimed Blaster in shock. He turned to look at Doc and Painkiller who both nodded. Blaster turned back to CT-1455 and gaped. “I didn’t feel a thing!”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he replied with a shy smile.

“CT-1455 you did amazing!” gushed Blaster.

“Needle,” he stated.

Blaster nodded, “yeah! You did amazing with the needle!”

“No,” he chuckled. “My name is Needle.” His three brothers looked at him, Doc’s eyes were shining with pride. “My name is Needle, not because I was scared of needles. But because it represents how I faced my fear.”

Blaster got off the medical bed and squeezed Needle in a tight hug. “You’ve got your name! I’m so happy for you vod’ika! Just wait until the others hear about this!”

Needle hugged Blaster back tightly. He knew his medic training would be finished in a month’s time. A month before Foxtrot squad would complete the Citadel test, so he was facing the real possibility that he would be assigned a battalion before them and be shipped out once the Republic needed his battalion. But in the meantime, he knew he was going to treasure every moment he had with his batchmates. He had always had theirs, and Painkiller’s and Doc’s, support and because of that he knew he was a very capable medic. At least now, wherever Foxtrot squad ended up, all five of them had their names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Foxtrot squad were named from the NATO alphabet name for the letter F.
> 
> As you may have guessed. Needle does not get assigned to a battalion on his own. Painkiller and Needle are assigned to the 212th after their medic training is complete. You may have also recognised two of his batchmates. Trapper and Meteor, as you know, both also get assigned to the 212th. Just before the war started Needle was pleasantly surprised when two of his batchmates found him on the Negotiator. 
> 
> Blaster, Runner and Doc were just clones I made up for the chapter. But then I felt bad thinking about splitting up Foxtrot squad. I've only had them in my brain for an hour and now I'm attached 😂.
> 
> Doc was named from all the historical dramas I watch and how every medic gets nicknamed Doc. After the war starts he volunteers for active service. He won't be popping up much, I don't think, but in my AU, he gets assigned to the 501st with Kix.
> 
> Blaster was named because he loved blasters, they're his favourite weapon. Runner was named because he was the fastest runner out of his batch. Both Blaster and Runner get assigned to the 501st. I couldn't let them never see Needle, Trapper or Meteor again.
> 
> Doc, Blaster and Runner all survive the war.


	11. Boil being a softie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two occasions where Boil is a softie with his brothers.

As Boil walked along the corridors in the Negotiator he paused when two shinies duck into an engineering room. He knew the two shinies were not apart of the engineering team, so he followed them, his instincts telling him something wasn’t quite right. As he stepped into the room that held many pipes of differing sizes, he heard shaky voice and frowned in concern.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get used to this,” said a quiet voice. “I should have just been put into the maintenance team on Kamino.”

“I know what you mean. My hands shake so much, I’m surprised I’ve not been named Shake yet.”

Boil stepped out of the shadows; twin looks of shock were directed at him. Boil saw the two shinies were sat on the floor, both leaning against each other, obviously trying to seek comfort from each other. So, as he slowly stepped towards them, he considered his words carefully. He knelt down in front of the two shinies. “We all need time to adjust to being in a frontline battalion.”

The first shiny who spoke scoffed. “We’ve been here almost two months.”

“And the 212th has only had one major campaign in that time. So, like I said. It will take time,” stressed Boil. He then clapped both shinies on their shoulders. “And you don’t need to hide in engineer rooms to feel better. You can talk to anyone to help. Even Cody, Kenobi and Jinn. Everyone knows beings need help sometimes. You don’t need to hide.”

Both shinies then started shaking, Boil reached forward and hugged them against him as he tapped on his commlink. Within a couple of minutes, members of his squad entered the engineer room. Waxer, Trapper and Meteor instantly sat on the floor and wrapped their arms around the shinies. They all remained in the huddle until the shinies stopped shaking. Trapper and Meteor helped them back to their bunks and squad.

Waxer and Boil stood up. Noting the smirk Waxer was sending him, Boil frowned and cross his arms over his chest. “What?”

“And you say you are not a softie,” grinned Waxer.

“I am _not_ ,” growled Boil. He then left the engineer room, his batchmate’s chuckles following him.

* * *

Boil sighed in relief as he sat on his bunk, his armour a neat pile on the floor. As he was about to stretch out on his bunk, he frowned when he saw Flycatcher sat on his own bunk, his head bowed as he sighed heavily. Boil weighed up his options, he _really_ wanted to sleep, but Waxer had told him earlier that Flycatcher had tried smuggling another creature onboard, this time even trying to get General Jinn’s help. The two of them prevented from getting the creature onboard because General Windu was on the same planet and had put a stop to their plan. Which wasn’t much of a plan to be honest, in Boil’s opinion. Waxer explained how Jinn had Kenobi go and report to General Windu, while he and Flycatcher were just going to carry the creature onboard. Obviously, General Windu saw them and made them release the creature. Waxer said he thought Kenobi may have hurt himself from how hard he rolled his eyes at Jinn. Cody had stood back and buried his face in his hands apparently.

Getting up off his bunk, Boil turned to the chest leaning against the wall. Waxer had wanted to give soft toys out to children and Kenobi had collected a lot of toys the Creche had been given but not needed. So, Boil rooted around the chest until he found a Loth-cat toy. Waxer had told him a couple of months back that Flycatcher had actually named a Loth-cat he tried to adopt, calling it Gerald.

He walked across their bunk room and then dropped the soft Loth-cat toy onto Flycatcher’s lap. His younger brother looked up at him in question. “Here. A creature you can adopt without smuggling an alive one onboard. Thought you could name it Gerald.”

Flycatcher started to smile up at him, clutching the Loth-cat against his chest tightly. “Thank you Boil.”

“What are you thanking me for?” he asked gruffly as he turned back towards his own bunk. “I didn’t do anything.” He settled, lying on his back, on his bunk and just as he turned to get comfortable, he noticed Flycatcher snuggling down on his bunk, still clutching the Loth-cat.

The next day a thank you note was left on his bunk. He hid it away before Waxer could see it, he didn’t need to be accused of being soft again. But when no one was looking, he smiled down at the note, noticing the little drawn Loth-cat instead of a name. He carefully placed the note at the bottom of his chest, under his spare blacks and then straightened up and began yelling at Blackeye and Longshot to hurry up.


	12. No. He's our Commander!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 212th gets protective of their Jedi Commander. Obi-Wan isn't in any danger. The boys in the 501st just want to claim him as their joint Jedi Padawan Commander. Like a shared custody agreement. 
> 
> The 212th aren't having it.

Normally when the 212th Attack Battalion and the 501st Legion met up, it was time for brothers to catch up in the hanger of the hosting unit’s Star Destroyer. Especially for Needle, Trapper and Meteor in the 212th as they got to catch up with their batchmates Blaster and Runner. It also gave Needle and Painkiller the opportunity to meet up with the medic who trained them, Doc. Whenever the medics met up, conversation was filled with comparisons of insane things their brothers did that got themselves injured. At the moment it was a tie between the 212th medics and the 501st medics, but the two units outnumbered stupid admissions to Medbay out of all of the GAR, General Koon’s men were not too far behind. But the 212th and 501st were renowned for the men doing crazy stunts. Whether the stunts be on missions or in their free time.

The latest conversation, in the hanger of the Negotiator, involved the men of both units, even the medics, the conversation turning into a heated debate.

“No. He’s _our_ Commander!” exploded Gearshift, his outburst startling the men of the 501st.

“Look. What is the big deal about the 501st calling Kenobi our Commander?” asked Fives, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked to Echo to back him up, but his twin just shook his head and stayed out of the argument as he sat on a nearby crate reading from his datapad.

“Because he _isn’t_ your Commander!” argued Meteor, as he threw his hands up in the air.

“General Skywalker says Kenobi is his brother-Padawan!” Blaster argued, locking his wild gaze onto his batchmate. Meteor just rolled his eyes and looked towards Trapper and Needle as if asking them to share their patience with him.

“They’re family. So, that makes Kenobi part of the 501st!” stated Runner with a determined nod of his head. As if signifying the end of the argument. The 501st shared triumphant grins, apart from Echo who just shook his head seeing the 212th straighten their backs as they readied themselves for a fight.

“So, is Jinn a part of the 501st?” asked Waxer, his tone of voice clearly faked niceness and a sweet smile on his face. Immediately the grins slipped off the faces of the 501st as they realised they were in dangerous territory, with the usually calm Waxer facing them off. Especially with a smile _like that._

“Well…no,” answered Jesse, his tone confused. “He’s the General of the 212th. So, he can’t be a part of the 501st.”

“Even though he’s family to General Skywalker?” Boil asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against Waxer.

“Guess so,” grumbled Fives mulishly as he glared at the floor, knowing exactly where this was going.

“So, how can Kenobi be your Commander?!” exclaimed Blackeye with a massive roll of his eyes. “Kenobi is the Jedi Padawan Commander assigned to the _212 th_. Not the 501st!”

The men of the 501st started grumbling amongst themselves as they glared at their brothers in the 212th. “We just wanted a Padawan Commander,” mumbled Runner. “We’re one of the only units in the whole GAR that _doesn’t_.”

“Well, don’t start trying to claim ours!” countered Longshot with an unsympathetic glare. “He’s our Commander, not yours!”

“Can’t we please just share him between our units?” pleaded Blaster. “We won’t let any other units, like the Wolfpack, try and claim him!”

“Neither the Wolfpack or _you_ are going to claim him!” snapped Trapper.

“We are not sharing our Jedi Commander in a custody agreement with you!” added Wooley with a sharp nod of his head.

Echo sighed from his position on the crate, Fives looked to his twin hopefully. Echo just rolled his eyes, “I told you this wouldn’t work.”

“Echo! Back us up here!” pleaded Fives desperately, his hands outstretched towards his twin.

“No, I won’t. Because unlike _you_ , I have read the reg manuals. Each unit is assigned one Jedi General and if that General has a Padawan. A General’s Padawan-sibling _does not count_. Then that unit has a Jedi Commander,” Echo stated flatly.

Boil grinned over at Echo and said, “Echo you are now an honorary member of the 212th.”

“So, you now get a Jedi Commander,” added Blackeye with a feral grin he directed at the other men of the 501st.

“Welcome to the family!” exclaimed Flycatcher, his arms lifted above his head in celebration. Echo acknowledged the welcomes from the 212th with a smile and a wave of his hand.

The 501st on the other hand just groaned and complained, Fives’ voice the loudest of them all. “I can’t _believe_ this! Abandoned by my own twin!”

Outside the hanger, Cody and Obi-Wan were leaning against the wall. Cody laughing at Echo’s quoting from the reg manual. “I always knew Echo was my favourite ARC,” he chuckled.

Obi-Wan shook his head fondly at his cyare, “I had no idea Jedi Padawan Commanders were so wanted.”

“Don’t you remember Flycatcher’s dismay that you were not a baby Commander?” asked Cody, his shoulders still shaking in silent laughter.

“I do. Which is why I am surprised the 501st want to claim me,” answered Obi-Wan with a shake of his head.

“I guess any Jedi Commander is better than no Commander,” teased Cody.

Obi-Wan lightly elbowed Cody in the side, “evidently.” They then walked away from the hanger; their hands clasped together as they listened to the raising voices in the hanger. The men now finding something else to argue about it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaster, Runner and Doc were OC's introduced earlier in this fic, in Chapter 10: Needle's training.
> 
> The reference to Flycatcher's dismay about not having a baby Commander is a conversation Obi-Wan overheard in chapter 2 of [Our fate lies within us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29314218/chapters/72000876#workskin).


	13. Why? Just why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of Cody and Patch's numerous weekly sessions where they just vent to each other about the crazy antics of the 212th that they have to deal with as Commander and Lead Medic.
> 
> This week's session featuring the 212th vs the 501st. Which unit would win the crutches race? Which unit can get as many men as possible in one gunship? Time to place your bets!

The door to Patch’s office in the Medbay closed behind Cody as he entered the small office. Patch looked up from his desk and seeing his visitor he kicked the spare chair towards the Commander. Cody sat down on the chair, placing his helmet on the desk. Both Cody and Patch leaned back in their chairs, both sighing heavily. Patch leaned down and opened the bottom draw and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Corellian whiskey. After filling both of the glasses, each man reached forward and took a glass. They toasted each other and then took a sip of the whiskey, both sighing as the tension in their shoulders loosened.

“What a week. Actually what a two days,” groaned Patch, as he let himself lean back in his chair. Cody noted the lead medic looked tired; his brother’s appearance even more ruffled as some strands of his black hair had escaped his usually neat nerf tail.

“Remind me why we allow the men of the 212th and 501st to meet up when we are not fighting a campaign?” asked Cody as he rubbed a hand over his face.

“I have _never_ said that it was a good idea,” snarked Patch as he pointed at Cody and took a sip of his whiskey. He then lifted his free hand and using his thumb he pointed behind him to a stack of crutches, that was leaning against the wall and taking up a third of the space available in the office. “Do you know why I am having to keep the battalion’s storage of crutches in my already small office?”

Cody sighed, “I can take a guess it is something to do with the combined madness of the 212th and 501st.” Rather than take a sip of his whiskey, Cody took a gulp.

Patch nodded and jerked his head in the direction of the main part of the ship, most likely indicating all of the men were involved in said madness. “Wooley injured his foot and when I went to get a pair of crutches for him, I came into the Medbay to find all of the crutches had been taken. It turns out the main corridor was hosting a crutch race between the 212th and 501st. And because there were not enough crutches to go around for everyone. They did _heats_. By the time I found them they had just completed the final.” Patch followed Cody’s example and then took a gulp of his whiskey. Then he refilled both of their glasses before he added. “The only consolation I have is that it ended in a 212th victory with Blackeye winning. Although I can’t be sure he didn’t kick Fives’ crutch out from under him in retaliation for knocking Flycatcher over.” Patch then heaved a sigh. “It was supposed to be a quiet afternoon for me to catch up on my paperwork. Instead, I had to ask second shift to start early to help Painkiller, Needle and I deal with all the bumps and bruises.”

“Do you think they are being more chaotic because the three Jedi are off on a Jedi only mission?” asked Cody. He stared down into the amber depths of his whiskey, not for the first time wishing he could have gone with his cyare. This time wasn’t to feel happier watching his cyare’s back, but to get away from the chaos induced by mixing the 212th and 501st together. When Obi-Wan was about to get on the departing ship, Cody had practically begged his cyare to take him with him.

“I have no idea,” groaned Patch as he put his glass on the desk and buried his face in his hands. “I’ve heard Skywalker joins in with the 501st’s antics.”

“So does Obi-Wan,” sighed Cody, he then thought about Jinn taking part in the bet on when his and Obi-Wan’s relationship would be revealed. “And Jinn.”

“Why are we cursed with Jedi who enable the craziness?” asked Patch, almost pleadingly.

“I think it’s normal,” commented Cody as he massaged his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. And it wasn’t the whiskey. Something told him there would be another combined 212th and 501st mess for him to clean up. He should have followed Rex’s example and found somewhere to hide on the Negotiator and claimed ignorance. “Fox tells me when General Tholme and Padawan Vos are on Coruscant, they apparently take great joy in designing training exercises for the Coruscant Guard.”

“Bet Fox loves that,” sniggered Patch. Fox’s dislike of troublemakers was well known. What could be worse for the Guard Commander than two Jedi Shadows with the aim of causing chaos in the vague description of a training exercise? “So, anything you want to get off your chest from the past two days?”

“Has it only been two days?” asked Cody with a groan. He sighed again, tilting his head back over the back of his chair, he then lifted his head back up and looked at Patch. “Echo read about some university students on Alderaan setting a record for getting the most people into one starship. So, he decided to make a competition between the 212th and 501st. See which unit could fit the most men from their unit into one gunship.”

Patch shook his head as he rolled his eyes. “Wait. Echo? ARC Trooper Echo?”

“The very same,” nodded Cody.

“I thought he was the _normal_ one!” exclaimed Patch, his eyes wide, now reassessing everything he had heard about the ARC Trooper.

“So, did I,” sighed Cody, his eyes blank in a thousand-yard stare. A stare Patch knew well. It was the look of someone too tired to care, someone who had no energy to deal with previously thought ‘normal’ brother, in fact being just as chaotic as the rest. “I entered the hanger, wondering where everyone was. It had been too quiet. Now I wish I hadn’t bothered looking for them.” He shook his head as Patch leaned forward to pat him consolingly on the shoulder, silently filling his whiskey glass up even though he hadn’t yet finished. “When I walked into the hanger, I just stood there and the pilots were trying to get them out of their gunships. So, the pilots of the two ‘in use’ gunships, opened the doors and the men came falling out. They had been stacked in. The 501st were sitting on each other’s’ shoulders. For example, Echo was sat on Fives’ shoulders, Blaster sat on Runner’s shoulders. Doc and Kix were even getting involved. And then I turned to the 212th ship, where I discovered Longshot was tipping over because he had Meteor on his shoulders and Meteor had Trapper on his shoulders.” Patch winced at the image in his head. “Boil also had Blackeye on his shoulders, who had Flycatcher on his shoulders.”

“Please tell me my medics had nothing to do with _that_ ,” begged Patch. Doc and Kix were not his problem as they were in the 501st.

Cody shook his head and sighed. “Gearshift had Painkiller on his shoulders and he had Needle on his shoulders.”

Patch cursed as he kicked his desk, the sound clanging in the small office. “Osik. They are cleaning bedpans for a _month_. They should know better.”

“I am currently reassessing my opinion of many of the brothers I thought were sensible. I’m beginning to think no such type of brother is assigned to the 212th or 501st,” commented Cody with a roll of his eyes that had Patch worried that his Commander had strained something.

“And the 501st are still here for another two days,” moaned Patch, he lent forward until he crossed his arms on the desk and rested his head on his arms. Patch turned his head to look at Cody with wide eyes. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take Cody.”

Cody clapped Patch on the shoulder. “We just have to power through. We have no choice.”

Patch sighed and nodded as he sat back upright. They then raised their glasses and clinked them together in a silent toast. Both assuming they would be having an extra venting session once the 501st had left. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into sedating me for the next two days?” Patch asked Cody hopefully.

Cody raised one unimpressed eyebrow. “If I have to live through the next two days, then so do you.”

“It was just a thought,” sighed Patch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have recently been re-watching the tv series M*A*S*H with my mum and when we were watching the season 6 episode 'the M*A*S*H Olympics' all I saw was the 212th vs the 501st. This was also the episode where I got the idea of the crutch race, because that was what what the characters did in the episode. 
> 
> Also, the who can fit the most men in a gunship idea was taken from the season 4 episode 'dear Peggy' when the character Hawkeye tried to see if they could break the record of squeezing the most people in a canopied army jeep.


	14. They grow up so fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon reflects on seeing his two Padawans grow up.

At the sound of loud laughter coming from the training room and an absence of most of the men on the Negotiator. Qui-Gon followed the sounds of many men gathered in the training room, in the Force he felt the men’s joy, it brought a smile to his face. Interested in what was making the men laugh, Qui-Gon entered the training room and smiled.

Stood in the centre of the room was Obi-Wan and Anakin who had stopped on the ship on his way back to the 501st on the Resolute, who were surrounded by most of the men. Anakin and Obi-Wan appeared to be demonstrating a Jedi Creche game, as they passed a feather between them in the Force. But that would not account for the laughter he heard. Then his answer was found when he noticed the men were all hovering a couple of inches off the floor. Qui-Gon rolled his eyes at the blatant misuse of the Force. But silently commended his Padawans for their control of the Force.

As the feather was allowed to fluttered to the floor, the men also gently lowered back on their feet. Thinking that was the end of the demonstration, Qui-Gon was about to leave the room when he sighed in exasperation. Boil, Waxer, Meteor, Blackeye and Flycatcher were all lifted into the air, hovering above the heads of the other men in the group. Anakin and Obi-Wan shared a smirk and then used the Force to push the men in the air between them, before setting them back on their feet. Immediately the rest of the men were all clambering for a chance to be pushed around in the air like the feather.

Anakin turned towards him and smirked. Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and remembered when he had told his recently Knighted Padawan that he would be taking on Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi as his next Padawan. Anakin had interrupted Obi-Wan’s crechemates’ game of push-feather and lifted Obi-Wan up into the air in a game of push-Padawan, much to Obi-Wan, Garen, Quinlan and Bant’s pleasure. Seeing his boys now, Anakin and Obi-Wan, no doubt passing on the fun game of push-Padawan, but turning it into push-clone. The men laughed as they were pushed through the air, Commander Cody laughing as he passed an upside-down Wooley, whose long hair dangled under his head, brushing against his brothers’ heads.

Qui-Gon leaned against the wall of the training room and smiled fondly. The 212th had just finished a hard campaign, their eyes heavy with grief. He sensed Obi-Wan and Anakin had wanted to make the men feel better. Honestly Qui-Gon was shocked Cody had allowed himself to be pulled into the antics. Qui-Gon knew Cody and Patch met up every week to complain about the chaotic tendencies of the 212th. But seeing Patch, Needle and Painkiller pass each other through the air. He assumed the harmless fun of push-clone was something both Patch and Cody needed as much as the rest of the battalion.

He looked at his Padawans with pride. They always made sure to help beings whenever they could. Qui-Gon felt a small pang of sadness as he looked at his boys. It didn’t seem that long ago that Obi-Wan was twelve, a small stubby Padawan braid behind his right ear and a young Knight Anakin, joking and smiling in his quarters. In a blink of an eye, his boys were all grown up. Obi-Wan could be Knighted at any point and he was just selfish enough to admit he was glad he could keep Obi-Wan at his side a little longer as his Padawan. While Obi-Wan was more than ready to step out into the galaxy on his own as a Jedi Knight, Qui-Gon was not yet ready to have his youngest child fly the nest.

Looking back at the group, Obi-Wan’s loud laughter ringing around the space. All the men were back on their feet, but Anakin had now lifted Obi-Wan into the air, almost flinging his younger brother around the room. Qui-Gon assumed they had been more careful with the men because they did not have Force sensitivity. But it seemed Anakin did not seem to want to be too careful with his brother. The men all craned their heads back, wide grins on their faces, Obi-Wan was definitely being lifted higher in the air then the men had been.

Logically, Qui-Gon knew he should put a stop to Anakin and Obi-Wan’s unconventional fun. But he was the maverick Jedi, and Obi-Wan had seemed just as worn down as the men. So, Qui-Gon lowered himself to the floor and let himself bask in the lightness of the Force surrounding his Padawans and men. As Obi-Wan was hung upside-down in the air, his long Padawan braid reaching down to touch Cody’s shoulder, the two Commanders sharing a smile, Qui-Gon sighed at the sight of the long braid. Part of him wishing for time to reverse so he could have that little copper-haired Junior Padawan at his side again. The time he spent helping guide Obi-Wan through homework he did not understand, the joy on Obi-Wan’s face when he perfected a kata. At twenty-three, almost twenty-four, years of age, Obi-Wan was a young man and did not need Qui-Gon’s help with katas or homework anymore. Children grew up so fast and Qui-Gon’s only comfort in his boys growing up was the hope one day he would have Grandpadawans to help and guide as they grew up. Qui-Gon resolved, that should he be granted Grandpadawans, that he would not take a second with them for granted, he would also ensure his boys knew to enjoy their years with their Padawans as much as possible. For Junior Padawans did not remain young for long. Although, considering what Qui-Gon had had to put up with during the teenage years of his Padawans, he smirked at the thought of watching his Padawans deal with teenage Padawans themselves. He might just bring snacks to the show.

His commlink chirped and Qui-Gon sighed at the thought of ending the fun. Obi-Wan was back on his feet, but he and Anakin were tackling each other to the ground, the men in a circle around them. All of the men taking bets on who would win. Qui-Gon remained where he was for a little longer. Soon enough he would have to remind Anakin he needed to get back to the 501st to meet with the Chancellor, while he, Obi-Wan and the 212th travelled to Traba. But knowing what the strains of war were doing to his Padawans and men, Qui-Gon let them have their fun for a little longer. Children may grow up fast, but there was no harm in encouraging child-like fun from time to time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this snippet does actually lead into the fic [The tale of a man and a monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29535456/chapters/72574104).


	15. Gearshift and well meaning shinies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gearshift is trying to keep himself occupied in the aftermath of General Jinn's injury and Kenobi's fight with Krell on Umbara. When he is interrupted by four, well meaning, shinies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a follow on to the fic [The only way to get what you want in this world is through hard work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676078).

Gearshift was spending his free time in the hanger of the Negotiator. The 212th had just left the Jedi Temple for the first time after the mess on Umbara, with Commander Kenobi standing in as commanding officer of the battalion. They were moving out with General Koon and the 104th battalion, they were traveling on their own Star Destroyer beside the Negotiator. Gearshift had needed some time to clear his head and the best way for him to do that was spend time in the hanger fixing and completing maintenance on gunships. He was glad Kenobi was starting to feel better and it put his own mind at rest that they were leaving the Jedi Temple with General Jinn on the mend. It was a horrible feeling to watch his General be transported from Traba to the Jedi Temple on the brink of death and it was just as bad to see Kenobi struggling to cope with the injury of his Master and the aftermath of the fight, he had with Krell. The Jedi Padawan had spent days walking around like a pale ghost. A poor imitation of the bright, happy person Kenobi usually was.

At the thought of the Fallen Jedi, Gearshift felt his hands tighten into fists, a snarl on his face as he pulled out a broken part from a gunship with more force than was strictly necessary. Krell had tried to get most of his brothers killed and had almost killed Kenobi when the Jedi Padawan tried to arrest him. Gearshift shook his head, part of him shocked that Kenobi had been investigating Krell on his own in a way to protect Gearshift and his brothers. They had all asked Kenobi to stop trying to protect them, to stop Krell turning his attention on Kenobi. But Gearshift shouldn’t be really surprised, Kenobi was someone who cared deeply and was not going to stand by while Krell was going to order many of the brothers in the 212th and 501st to their deaths.

A loud curse brought Gearshift out of his thoughts. He put down his tools and nodded to Fixer, the brother was supposed to be fixing the gunship Gearshift had commandeered. As Fixer turned his attention to the gunship, Gearshift followed the curses an found a group of four shinies gathered around a gunship, tools strewn around them. “Trace we’ve made it worse!” cried one of the shines a petrified look on his face. “We were supposed to be fixing it!”

“We are!” snapped the voice of the shiny who must be Trace, his head buried within the engine of the gunship.

“We’re not!” exclaimed the first shiny, his hands covering his face, his eyes wide in terror. “We’ve broken it!”

Gearshift rolled his eyes and stepped closer to the group. All four shinies froze and all slowly turned their heads towards him, colour draining form their faces. Which made the engine grease streaked across Trace’s face stand out even more. “Don’t worry shinies. Let’s see what you’ve done and I’ll help you to fix it.”

The first shiny breathed a sigh of relief, Trace looked up at him and hissed, “shut it Worrywart.”

“That’s enough,” snapped Gearshift as he glared at Trace. Who had the sense to mumble an apology to Worrywart who was now twisting his hands together nervously. No guessing why the shiny had earned that particular name. As he got closer to the engine, he learnt the two other shinies stood beside Worrywart were called Trigger and Trip. As he took a look at the engine, he asked to the group. “So, why were you trying to fix this gunship? You clearly are not with the engineers.”

“We wanted to do something to help,” commented Trip. “Everyone has been really stressed out.”

Gearshift looked up to see Trigger nodded. “Most of the 212th know Commander Kenobi enough to help him directly. But we don’t. So, we thought we could help the battalion out as a whole by fixing the gunships.” Gearshift smiled to himself at the thoughtfulness of the shines.

“That is very kind of you,” he said as he put back a part Trace had previously taken out. “But you were fixing a gunship that was not broken.” Worrywart, Trip and Trigger cursed.

“How can you tell?” asked Trace with a hint of defensiveness.

“Because the gunships needing work are put over there,” replied Gearshift as he pointed over to where he and Fixer had been working on the gunships.

“Oh,” murmured Trace, his face reddening out of embarrassment. Trace then looked up at Worrywart. “Sorry, ‘wart. You were right, I shouldn’t have just headed for any old gunship.”

“That’s okay Trace,” smiled Worrywart. Gearshift shook his head; the kid was a lot more forgiving than he would be.

Once the gunship had been put to rights. Gearshift stood up and grinned at the shinies. They all tensed, probably expecting him to give them a punishment. “You want to help?” they all nodded at him eagerly. So, Gearshift pointed behind them to the cans of paint. “This gunship needs some nose art and I think you are capable enough.” The four shinies grinned at him and then turned to run over to the various cans of paint. Gearshift chuckled to himself and walked back across the hanger to Fixer.

An hour later, Gearshift wiped his hands on a rag and noticed Kenobi and Cody walking through the hanger, checking with Fixer and his team on the status of the gunships. Kenobi then did a double take; Gearshift followed his gaze and grinned when he noticed the four shinies had finished the nose art. And Gearshift had to admit, they did good work. They had painted Kenobi in his signature defensive pose, his lightsaber activated raised over his head. The painted Jedi had his usual grin and above his head and lightsaber the words ‘hello there’ had been painted in 212th gold.

Gearshift turned back to Kenobi and was pleased to see the Jedi’s shoulders shaking with laughter. His blue eyes were bright with humour and a big grin was on his face as he failed to contain his laughter. Cody’s eyes were wide with relief as he looked at the Jedi, the Commander reached out to clasp his hand with Kenobi’s as he turned to look at the nose art.

Kenobi used his free hand to take a holo picture with his commlink and stated, “I’ve got to send this to Anakin. The 501st haven’t painted _him_.”

Four heads peaking around a gunship caught Gearshift’s attention. He turned and smiled at the shinies, giving them a thumbs up. Worrywart grinned and dragged his squadmates behind him, Gearshift just catching his comment. “Come on! Lots of gunships need nose art!”


	16. Longshot and the enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longshot is up in a sniper position, only able to watch as his platoon is pinned down by the Separatists. Well, not completely limited to watch. He does have a sniper rifle with him after all.

It was the middle of a battle and Longshot was furious. He was currently in a sniper position and he was away from his platoon. His platoon that was currently pinned down by enemy fire. Commander Kenobi was leading the main charge with the rest of the 212th, Cody not far away from him. Ghost company was trying to flank around the droids to meet up with the 104th, another company trying to flank around the droids on the other side to meet up with the 501st. But Waxer’s platoon got cut off from the rest of Ghost company and were now all taking cover from a pile of boulders.

Longshot growled under his breath when he noticed a blaster shot hit too close to Meteor’s head, causing the blonde-haired man to hurriedly duck down, landing awkwardly on Trapper. Flycatcher was trying stand up and lean against the tallest part of the pile of boulders, probably trying to take out some of the Separatists’ tanks. Blackeye looked up at his batchmate and pulled Flycatcher back down, seconds later a blaster shot flew past just where Flycatcher’s face had been. Waxer was shouting into his comm, Longshot could hear the Lieutenant on his comm, but he tuned out his Lieutenant, only listening in the background for his own name. Wooley was hovering over Gearshift who was holding his shoulder. Longshot frowned, when he remembered that no shot had hit Gearshift, he recalled his squadmate had fallen in his rush for cover and may have landed on his shoulder. Boil was pressed against Waxer, his blaster held up as he waited for an opportunity to strike, through his sniper’s scope, Longshot could see Boil was vibrating with rage. Boil never liked having to take cover when other brothers were fighting, but Waxer’s hand on his shoulder kept him where he was.

Moving his rifle a little, Longshot looked through his scope, looking past his platoon and right at the Separatists on top of the ridge. The droids responsible for pinning his platoon down. He noticed the droids had put a lot of fuel barrels around the tanks, Longshot smirked, he knew just what to do to help his brothers.

Taking a breath, Longshot took aim and then fired at the barrels of fuel around the first tank, instantly a cloud of fire and smoke rose up around the tank. Hearing the battle droids shriek was music to his ears, as he readied his next shot. He fired at another group of fuel barrels. More fire and smoke rose up into the air. Through the black smoke, Longshot could just see the droids that had survived the explosions running around trying to put their tanks into working order, but the two big explosions had damaged most of their tanks.

Looking back at his platoon, Waxer was looking over the pile of boulders and then waving the platoon to get up and move. “Thanks Longshot,” commented Waxer over the comms, as he followed Trapper and then began running towards the rest of Ghost company.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled. “Blackeye you owe me.”

“What?!” exclaimed Blackeye as his running figure looked over his shoulder and up towards Longshot. “What do I owe you for?”

“You said I’d be sat up here doing nothing. You were wrong,” Longshot smirked in response.

“Whatever,” sighed Blackeye. Longshot knew his squadmate would be rolling his eyes right now.

Longshot looked back at the droids through his scope and smirked, their shrieks still louder than the roaring flames that were the remains of the fuel barrels and tanks. “You aren’t getting my brothers today clankers,” stated Longshot with satisfaction. He may have initially not liked being put up high away from his platoon and the 212th, but he had to admit. Right now, he was enjoying the show the enemy were putting on for him right now. Just a shame he didn’t have any snacks with him.


End file.
